


The Devil is in the Details

by Abydosorphan



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abydosorphan/pseuds/Abydosorphan
Summary: Never lend books.  But what happens when you're finished with the one you were given?





	

Laura gently strokes the spine of the novel in her hands. She knows that Adama… Will… Adama… had said it was a gift. That he’d told her not to return it. Something inside of her wants to listen to him. Wants her to realize that this is just a vain attempt to see him again. To realize that she looks forward to their meetings. To seeing him.

They're at odds and she knows it. There’s no illusion to the open hostility that often exists between them. She's the President and he's the military commander. Their jobs dictate the closeness of their relationship; especially in these times of war. But with the job also comes the idea of decorum.

The sound of his voice calms her. Their talks, the fact that he is the one person that she can be totally frank with, that they have shared secrets between them, relaxes her. The intimacy that they share is beyond anything that she's felt in a very long time, but taking it further is, and will most likely always be, wrong. She’s been down that road before with Adar, and she’d rather not relive past transgressions with the little time she may have left.

Still, she finds herself outside of his quarters once again. The weight of the book heavy in her hands, as she raises her hand and knocks gently on the hatch. The noise sounds hollow in the silence of the corridor.

She wonders for a moment if he will bother to answer, especially if he knows that it is her calling. She knows that he is still sore over her push to terminate the search for Kara Thrace -- the fact that things turned out in their favor notwithstanding. She knows that his emotions are raw and that her bringing up the death of his son and the personal aspect of the search was a low blow. One that she fully stands behind and would do again if he pushed her to it. But one that she cringes at the thought of, nonetheless.

The door to his quarters open and he doesn’t say a word, just stares at her for a few moments before stepping aside to allow her entrance. She moves inside and takes stock of the room before her. His quarters are way too comforting and calming and that in itself should have her feeling disconcerted. It doesn’t, but it should.

Instead, it feels warm and inviting and she wants nothing more than to close her eyes and relax in his chair while he runs his fingers through her hair and reads to her. 

It’s a luxury that she hopes one day will be open to more than just flights of idle fantasy.

Not that she’d allow it to ever come to fruition. She’s made that mistake in her past, and her future is tenuous at best, the last thing she needs is to get bogged down in complications and distractions. Still, the obvious tension in the air between them is a distraction itself -- and that she intends to rectify.

She turns to face him and awkwardly waves the copy of _Dark Day_ between the two of them. “I know you said it was a gift….”

Adama looks at the book in her hands before glancing back up to meet her eye. “That’s right. Never lend books.”

Laura smiles nervously, “Well, unless you intend on handing out your entire collection….” She pauses to glance around before continuing, “I have to admit I have a rather selfish motivation behind my visit.”

The tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepen slightly, and she almost wonders if it could be the precursors to a smile. She decides it’s a nice look for him. It softens his features, takes a bit of the gruff edge away. She likes it and decides that regardless of the fact that the tension between them can never be satisfied, she would like to gain ground enough to where she can see this side of him more often. 

“You’ve finished it.” His voice is soft, the timbre of it much more muted than his usual baritone.

She smiles and raises her eyebrows sheepishly in reply.

This time the smile does break out across his entire face. The shake of his head is minute but she can still pick up on it. He’s laughing at her. This knowledge brings a smile to her face and color to her cheeks. If she were here on any kind of official business or she took this as a sign of condescension she would be annoyed. Instead, he seems amused by her actions and so she lets him have his moment.

He turns away from her and moves over to the bookshelf. His finger ran along the row of book spines, coming to rest on one in particular. “I believe you’d expressed an interest in mysteries. If you liked Edward Prima, I think this might be up your alley.” He takes the book off of the shelf and extends it out to her.

She places the copy of _Dark Day_ on the edge of his desk and reaches out for the new offering. The leather binding is smooth and rough at the same time and feels good as her fingers run across the cover. “I look forward to it.”

She leans against his desk, enjoying the way the corner digs into her thigh, and wonders if it is a side effect of the Chamala or if her senses will always be this heightened around him. The sound of his voice, the smell of his quarters, the feel of the leather beneath her fingertips, the sight of his smile in front of her, the taste of ambrosia on her lips.

She pulls herself from her thoughts when she feels his hand tighten around her elbow, “Something else I can do for you, Madam President?” 

She thinks of how much of a loaded question this has become. Of all of the ways she would like to be able to answer it but will probably never allow herself to do so. Instead, she smiles and cocks her head to the side, “Yes, actually. This is one of the few places where that silly title doesn’t have to follow me around.”

“Understood, Ms. Roslin.”

She scoffs at him and pushes off from the desk, getting ready to exit the quarters. “You’re a long way from one of my students, Bill.” The way his name rolls off of her lips brings a smile to her face.

He answers her smile with one of his own, “And I’m still a long way from calling you Laura, Madam President.”

Her laughter came easily, sounding lighter to her own ears than it had in quite a while. “I guess you are, Commander. I guess you are.”


End file.
